Or a home generator - "
"Why, yes, my dear, I've got one."The voice came from the top of the stairs. Mrs. Flowers was standing there, dressed in a fresh sweat suit. Strangely, she had her voluminous purse in her hand.
"You had - have a generator?"Meredith asked, her heart sinking. What a waste! And if disaster came al because she, Meredith, hadn't finished reading over her own research! The minutes were ticking away, and if everyone in Fel 's Church died, it would be her fault. Her fault. She didn't think she could live with that.
Meredith had tried, al her life, to reach the state of calm, concentration, and balance that was the other side of the coin from the fighting skil s her various disciplines had taught her. And she had become good at it, a good observer, a good daughter, even a good student for al that she was in Elena's fast-paced, high-flying clique. The four of them: Elena, Meredith, Caroline, and Bonnie had fit together like four pieces of a puzzle, and Meredith Stillsometimes missed the old days and their daring, dominating pseudo-sophisticated capers that never real y hurt anyone - except the sil y boys who had mil ed around them like ants at a picnic.
But now, looking at herself, she was puzzled. Who was she?
A Hispanic girl named for her mother's Welsh best friend in col ege. A hunter-slayer of vampires who had kitten canines, a vampire twin, and whose group of friends included Stefan, a vampire; Elena, an ex-vampire - and possibly another vampire, although she was extremely hesitant to cal Damon a "friend."
What did that alladd up to?
A girl trying to do her best to keep her balance and concentration, in a world that had gone insane. A girl Stillreeling from what she'd learned about her own family, and now tottering from the need to confirm a dreadful suspicion.
Stop thinking. Stop! You have to tel Mrs. Flowers that her boardinghouse has been destroyed.
"Mrs. Flowers - about the boardinghouse - I have to talk to you..."
"Why don't you use my BlackBerry first?"Mrs. Flowers came down the basement stairs careful y, watching her feet, and then the children parted before her like waves on the Red Sea.
"Your...?"Meredith stared, choked up. Mrs. Flowers had opened her enormous purse and was now proffering a rather thick al -black object to her.
"It Stillhas power,"the old lady explained as Meredith took the thing in two shaking hands, as if receiving a holy object. "I just turned it on and it was working. And now I'm on the Internet!" - proudly.
Meredith's world had been swal owed up by the smal , grayish, antiquated screen. She was so amazed and excited at seeing this that she almost forgot why she needed it. But her body knew. Her fingers clutched; her thumbs danced over the mini-keyboard. She went to her favorite search page and entered the word "Orime."She got pages of hits - most in Japanese. Then feeling a trembling in her knees, she typed in "Inari."
6,530,298 results.
She went to the very first hit and saw a web page with a definition. Key words seemed to rush out at her like vultures.
Inari is the Japanese Shinto deity of rice...and...foxes. At the entrance to an Inari shrine are...statues of two kitsune...one male and one female...each with a key or jewel carried in mouth or paw...These fox-spirits are the servants and messengers of Inari. They carry out Inari's orders....
There was also a picture of a pair of kitsune statues, in their fox forms. Each had a front paw resting on a star bal .
Three years ago, Meredith had fractured her leg when she was on a skiing trip with her cousins in the Blue Ridge Mountains. She had run straight into a smal tree. No martial arts skil s could save her at the last minute; she knew she was skiing off the groomed areas, where she could run into anything: powder, crud, or iced-over ruts. And, of course, trees. Lots of trees. She was an advanced skier, but she had been going too fast, looking in the wrong direction, and the next thing she knew, she was skiing into the tree instead of around it.
Now she had the same sensation of waking up after a head-on into wood. The shock, the dizziness and nausea that were, initial y, worse than the pain. Meredith could take pain.
But the pounding in her head, the sickening awareness that she had made a big mistake and that she